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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29070663">Everything</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThoughtaThought/pseuds/ThoughtaThought'>ThoughtaThought</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Flashbacks, Fluff, Gen, Light Angst, M/M, New house, No Angst, Songfic, Time Skips, but it's surrounded by fluff, fine, i don't think so, okay, so does that really count as angst?</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 09:28:07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,393</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29070663</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThoughtaThought/pseuds/ThoughtaThought</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>A stroll through four moments in Dan's past, surrounded by four moments of Dan's future in his forever home. </p><p>It's cute. It's fluffy. All the OCs first names mean 'wolf' cause it makes me laugh that, in the AU where he ends up marrying them, they would literally be Wolf Howell.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Dan Howell/Phil Lester</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Phandomreversebang face the music</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Everything</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Inspired by "Everything I Did To Get To You" by Ben Platt (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vTN9Xo2MvP4)</p><p>Art by Artlessdynamite (https://artlessdynamite.tumblr.com/)</p><p>Kudos to my beta Phanallyhome (https://phanallyhome.tumblr.com/)</p>
    </blockquote><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Late night relief</p><p>Having a girlfriend</p><p>Having fun with all kinds of interesting people</p><p>Morning coffee with a boo boo on the side</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Dan curses his hydration habit when it wakes him. Being healthy can be so goddamn inconvenient. </p><p> </p><p>He kicks his legs out of the covers, flopping them over the edge of the bed and willing his torso to sit up. It takes a few mental screaming matches, and he probably falls back asleep a couple of times, before he’s stumbling his way down the hall. He thanks the Phil of the past for learning to justify his impulse buys. The animal-themed nightlights do not go with their new house’s cozy modern aesthetic, but they chase away the dark and never fail to make Dan smile. </p><p> </p><p>Dan sleepwalks back to the bedroom, trying to shuffle quietly. As soon as Dan’s feet hit the plush throw rug on his side of the bed, Phil shoots up. His quiff is a modern art masterpiece titled ‘Mayhem’ and his eyes are struggling to open as he mumbles and squeaks. His incomprehensible ramblings communicate very little. Dan listens attentively until Phil peters off.</p><p> </p><p>“You okay, bub?” Dan asks, not entirely sure if Phil’s awake. </p><p> </p><p>“There’s a penguin on the dresser,” Phil slurs with urgency. Dan blinks.</p><p> </p><p>“Wot?” Dan looks at the dresser and, unsurprisingly, finds it penguin-free. He stares a bit longer, rubbing his eyes and looking again. He’s not awake enough for his brain to work properly. The throw under his feet is soft like a cloud with prickly bits that are shiny when the sun hits them, but it’s nighttime, so there’s no sun to make the rug sparkle and that’s quite sad. </p><p> </p><p>Phil whines and Dan blinks, trying to focus. He glares at the dresser, searching for… </p><p> </p><p>“The penguin, Dan.” He sounds truly distressed about it. He says something else, the meaning getting lost between his brain and his mouth, but it’s whiney enough that Dan gets the point. </p><p> </p><p>“Alright. Okay, love,” Dan says, trying to mimic Kath’s gentle tone. “I’ll take care of the penguin. Go back to sleep.” </p><p> </p><p>“Penguin,” Phil murmurs, but he’s laying back against the pillow. His soft snores start back up again as Dan collapses back into bed. He kicks at the bunched up sheet until it’s mostly flat again, then wiggles his toes until they poke out from under the duvet, off the side of the bed. He’s relaxing into sleep when the phantom sensation of fingers grabbing at his ankle has him jerk his foot over the duvet, but firmly on the bed, then he’s drifting.</p><p> </p><p>~~*~~</p><p> </p><p>“There you are, love!” Lowella’s slender fingers wrap around Dan’s wrist and he stumbles after her as she tugs him out of the crowd. </p><p> </p><p>“Dan! Ella! A’right?” Oliver shouts over the music. She pauses long enough to throw a wink at him before tugging at Dan again. “Ayy!! Get it, Howell!” </p><p> </p><p>The wolf whistles from their friends are subsumed by Haley’s crooning.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> You were finished long before </em>
</p><p>
  <em> We had even seen the start </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Why don't you stand up? </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Be a man about it </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Fight with your bare hands about it, now </em>
</p><p> </p><p>“Where’re we going, Lo?” Dan asks once they reach the edge of the crowd. </p><p> </p><p>“C’mon!” she says. The sounds of people shouting lyrics fading as he’s pulled toward their tents. Lowella stops when they get to the treeline, grabbing Dan’s other wrist and guiding his fingers to her waist, under her shirt, as she backs up against a tree. Dan takes a deep breath to calm his shaking hands, praying to God that she doesn’t notice his sweaty palms. Her fingers climb up his neck and into his hair, pulling him down until their lips meet. </p><p> </p><p>She’s so soft: plush flesh covered in downy fuzz, wet lips giving and taking his breath away, fingers gentle where they press loving circles into his scalp. She’s the kind of warm that envelopes Dan, wrapping him up and keeping him safe, but never suffocates him. One of her hands trails down to grip the back of his neck and he melts into her soft warmth.</p><p> </p><p>“Dan,” she sighs into his lips, then kisses along his jaw. Her lips brush against his neck and he shivers before his eyes fly open. Panic pours over him like a bucket of ice water down his spine and he slowly extracts his hands from under her shirt, pulling away. </p><p> </p><p>He gently shifts her grip from his hair, twining their fingers together and bringing their hands down between them: a barrier masquerading as care. Her face falls at what she sees in his eyes. Then her eyes harden, her face twisting into a scowl.</p><p> </p><p>“Do you even like me?” she says, shaking his hands from hers.</p><p> </p><p>“Lo, I lov-”</p><p> </p><p>“Don’t,” she grits out. Her eyes squeeze shut then open in a glare that crumbles. “Don’t lie to me, Dan.”</p><p> </p><p>Dan watches as she drifts away from him. He sees her search his eyes and give up. He’s helpless to stop it. He’s losing her and he can’t-</p><p> </p><p>*</p><p> </p><p>“I wonder if bum boys burn the same as witches,” a guy says just outside Dan’s tent. His friends chuckle and Dan sinks further into his sleeping bag, squeezing his eyes shut and flinching when a lighter clicks. Dan chokes on relief that smells like cigarettes as their voices fade into the distance. </p><p> </p><p>~~*~~</p><p> </p><p>Adam Lambert’s voice shakes through Dan’s bones. The house is a mess of awkwardly swaying bodies, smelling of sweat and booze. The Malibu coke goes down too smoothly. His head swims and his body sways to the beat. He tries out some (hopefully) subtle hip movements, grinding his ass against the wall and pretending he’s practicing for a future where he’s brave enough to grind against an actual human. Maybe a Phil-shaped human. </p><p> </p><p>Amazing Phil? More like Amazing Ass. </p><p> </p><p>And that’s the moment Dan realises he’s drunk. He thought that maybe having a freakishly tall body would mean he’d have a higher alcohol tolerance, but nope. He’s too slender to be able to hold his liquor. </p><p> </p><p><em> Slender like Slender Man. </em> Dan giggles. Then he stops giggling when he realises he’s standing by himself in the dark, giggling at nothing. Dan giggles some more.</p><p> </p><p>“Hey, Dan,” Bleiz says, leaning his shoulder against the wall.</p><p> </p><p>“Hey, Oli,” Dan says, letting his head flop against the wall and feeling a lazy smile spread across his face. “My limbs feel loopy.” </p><p> </p><p>They laugh together, flopping their arms through the air, bumping against each other. They refill their cups in the kitchen, then settle on the back porch. Beyonce’s muffled vibrato pierces into the silence around them like the scantily scattered stars across the orangey night sky. </p><p> </p><p>Bleiz clears his throat and Dan looks over to see him chewing on his lip, fiddling with his half-empty cup. Dan waits patiently, willing his body to stop swaying with the beat of his heart. </p><p> </p><p>“How’d you know you were… y’know.” Bleiz swallows, looking at his feet. He shrugs, but his hands are a bit shaky. “How’d you know you were bi or whatever?” </p><p> </p><p>Dan blinks at Bleiz’s cheek, then turns to consider the night sky as he thinks. He sets his drink down, leaning back onto his palms. It takes some work to wade through the alcohol turning his brain to mush, but eventually the cogs turn enough that an answer comes out of his mouth. </p><p> </p><p>“I don’t think it’s something that can be known or labeled or… stuff, but it’s-it’s like… well, it’s not like I’m attracted to every single person I meet, you know? Like, it’s more like the people I’m attracted to are…” Dan flaps his hand around in the air, enjoying the feeling of his wrist flopping, so his palm faces the ground then the air. “I’m attracted to a person for who they are, not what they look like or what’s between their legs, you know?” </p><p> </p><p>It’s not pretty or concise or even terribly cohesive, as far as explanations go, but Dan thinks he did a pretty good job explaining the flaming dumpster fire that is his sexuality. </p><p> </p><p>“If I’m being honest, I don’t really know how it works,” Dan says with a shrug. “Sometimes I look at a person and just think, ‘damn, they’re hot,’ and other times it’s more like ‘eh, they’re alright, I guess’ but then I get to know them and it’s like ‘woah. I really like them. I want to put my mouth on them,’ but then there are some people who are super hot and I’m really attracted to them until I get to know them and realise they’re fucking wankers, you know?” Dan swivels his head and is met by Bleiz’s charcoal black eyes; his dark skin lit gold at the edges by the yellow porchlight. </p><p> </p><p>“Yeah,” Bleiz says on a sigh, his eyes flicking down to Dan’s lips before he’s looking back out over the tiny fenced backyard like a hawk spotting a mouse in a field. “Yeah, that makes sense, I guess.” Bleiz shrugs with too much nonchalance. Something warm curls up below Dan’s stomach and purrs. </p><p> </p><p>“It’s honestly not at all different from what most guys feel for girls,” Dan says. He’s having a hard time pulling his gaze away from Bleiz’s profile. His nose is like… a roller coaster where it slopes down, but then it like, starts to go out. It’s a pretty nose. Very cute. Dan wants to boop it. He doesn’t (barely). <em> Focus, Dan </em> . “Um, I mean, like… Like the only real difference between me and ‘normal’ dudes-” he put a lot of emphasis on the air quotes around normal (and notices that Bleiz turns back toward him at the movement), “-is that I don’t limit myself to half the population. Again, I’m not attracted to <em> everyone </em>, but like… it’s possible, you know?” </p><p> </p><p>“Yeah,” Bleiz says, fighting a smile. His eyes sparkle when they catch the light. Dan lets himself topple (slowly, in a very controlled manner) his head onto Bleiz’s shoulder. He feels and hears it when Bleiz laughs. It’s a beautiful sound. “How drunk are you?” </p><p> </p><p>Dan flaps his wrist some more in front of their faces. It still feels the good kind of weird and his joints pop in a way that should be gross but is actually really satisfying. </p><p> </p><p>“Okay, I’m proper drunk,” Dan says, laughing along with Bleiz and nuzzling a bit into his shoulder. “Do you want to know a secret?” Dan says into Bleiz’s shoulder. </p><p> </p><p>“Sure.” </p><p> </p><p>“Your eyes are beautiful,” Dan whispers. He stays incredibly still, hoping that he won’t get shoved away or hit or-</p><p> </p><p>Bleiz huffs. “They’re just plain, boring brown. Nothing special.” </p><p> </p><p>Dan sighs and is very glad his nose is warm and safe against Bleiz’s shoulder. “But they’re so deep and curious. There’s nothing boring about them.” </p><p> </p><p>They sit in silence for a while, but where it was just two blokes enjoying the cooling evening air before, now it’s thick and humid with confessions unspoken. </p><p> </p><p>“Do you want to know a secret?” Bleiz whispers. Dan nods against his shoulder. “I want to kiss you.” </p><p> </p><p>Dan sits up as the purring thing below his stomach stretches, sinking its claws between Dan’s hips. He was right. Bleiz’s eyes shimmer with raw intensity and they’re locked together, captured in each other.</p><p> </p><p>Then Bleiz looks down at Dan’s lips and licks his own. </p><p> </p><p>~~*~~</p><p> </p><p>“Phiiiiiiiiiwww!” Dan calls to the flat at large. </p><p> </p><p>“Yeah?” Phil’s voice is far away, but echoes off the bare walls and hardwood floors that Dan won in the Great House Negotiations of 2018 (“Phil, if you’re going to wear socks regardless, why do we need carpeted flooring?”) </p><p> </p><p>“I’m bleeding!” Dan yells. </p><p> </p><p>“Wot?!” </p><p> </p><p>“Can you fetch the first aid kit?” </p><p> </p><p>It’s really not too terrible, but Dan <em> is </em> bleeding and it <em> is </em> Phil’s fault, so it follows that he’s due some fumbling affection from his best friend/arch enemy/husband/business partner/partner in crime/soulmate/just mate/whatever. It just needs a plaster, but sometimes Dan feels just a bit petty and this is one of those times. </p><p> </p><p>Phil gallops loudly into the kitchen, nearly sliding onto his ass when he comes to an abrupt stop in his incredibly fuzzy (‘I can’t wear just regular socks if I’m going to have to suffer through cold hardwood floors, Dan’) mismatched socks.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh good,” Phil says, after flipping on the light and looking him over. </p><p> </p><p>“Your sympathy for my pain is overwhelming,” Dan says flatly. Phil chuckles.</p><p> </p><p>“I was expecting to walk into a bloodbath,” Phil says with his tongue between his smiling teeth as he settles down, opening the kit between them. “Forgive me for being relieved that you’ve just bumped your shin.” </p><p> </p><p>“On the very sharp edge of a cabinet door you opened sometime between midnight and now,” Dan says with a pointed glare. Based on Phil’s still smiling face, it hadn’t packed much heat. But how can Dan possibly be truly upset with this impossible man with his usually harmless quirks. “I just wanted to make my partner some coffee like the good house husband I am and now I’m maimed and dying on the floor and there’s no coffee.” </p><p> </p><p>“You could have turned the light on, you spoon,” Phil says, unwrapping a hello kitty bandage and placing it carefully over the battle wound. He sits back, pushing the kit to the side without closing it and leaving the plaster wrapping where it is on the floor. “Better?”</p><p> </p><p>Dan makes a production of pouting, fluttering his eyelashes. “Kiss it better, Daddy?” </p><p> </p><p>Phil snorts, but bends over and presses gentle lips over the bandage. “Better?” </p><p> </p><p>“Much,” Dan says with a smile. “And why would I turn on the lights when there is perfectly adequate sunlight coming in through our obnoxiously large windows?” </p><p> </p><p>“So you don’t meet your doom on the edge of an open cupboard?” the cheeky bastard says. </p><p> </p><p>“For that comment, I expect you to make me a cup of coffee, young man.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yes, sir!” Phil says with a serious salute and a smiling face. He bounces up off the floor and sets about opening all the cupboards in his search for ingredients. </p><p> </p><p>Dan sighs, packing away the first aid kit and tidying the rubbish with a smile. He stays on the floor, shamelessly enjoying the way Phil’s bum flexes as he stretches onto his tiptoes to reach what turns out to be marshmallows on the top shelf. </p><p> </p><p>Jesus Christ on a bicycle, he loves his idiot.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Lowella - young wolf<br/>Bleiz - wolf</p><p>I'm hilarious. Two 'Wolf Howell's in one chapter. What a mad lad!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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